Sweet Tooth Outtakes
by MacFlan
Summary: Outtakes from Sweet Tooth, the strange erotic bakery collab between mac214 and BellaFlan. This was supposed to be a novella, but we already have outtakes! MA only.


**A/N: Outtake from Sweet Tooth written by BellaFlan and Mac214 (MacFlan) for Claireroth's birthday! Happy birthday, baby. We love you! This outtake is Carlisle's POV - Edward interviews for his job at the Pink Cookie. Enjoy!**

"C'mon, baby, please? Just suck it a little." My pants were pooled around my feet, and I fisted the base of my cock, pointing it at my annoyed-looking wife.

"Carlise, stop it! You're acting like an idiot." Esme didn't look impressed, even though my girth was way impressive. "Just get to work." She huffed out of the room, leaving me standing, literally, with my dick in my hand.

Suffice it to say, my morning was off to a rough start, which was kind of ridiculous considering the fact that my job consisted mostly of crafting porn out of pastry. Dude, it was a total dream job, right? Yeah, not so much at the moment. I couldn't concentrate on the artistry involved in making ejaculating cream puffs when I had a cream puff of my own threatening to explode from pent-up sexual tension. Esme was on sex-strike due to her hormone treatments. I would have thought trying to have a baby would result in more pussy than I could handle, not a raging case of aching blue balls.

There was more work than I could deal with, which was a good thing, but the stress was getting to me. I welcomed the opportunity to interview fresh blood.

"You come highly recommended, mon frere." I greeted my eleven o'clock candidate. Apparently this Edward Cullen person studied in France. I planned to wow him with my cunning linguistics.

"Thanks," he said, smoothing down his crazy hair. "There are advantages to pursuing a vocation a little later on in life."

"Later in life? You look like you're still in diapers.

"Oh…well, thank you." He smiled quickly and efficiently, referring me back to his resume. "I attended the New School here in New York, night classes, for a about a year. After my practical exam, I was accepted into the Volterra Culinary program." He straighted his back proudly as he announced this.

"Where was that?"

"Milan."

_Yep, France_. I knew it. "I speak French," I explained.

"Er, that's really great…" Edward shifted on his feet. I didn't mean to make him nervous; the poor guy was all kinds of awkward already.  
"Voulez-vous cochon avec moi, ce soir?" I grinned.

"Um, pardon me?

"I'm totally kidding!" Aw, shit. He probably thought I was serious.

"Alright."

"No, dude, I don't want to brown my missile on you. I don't pork guys." I decided it was best to stick to the interview script. This Eddie fellow was getting all twitchy. "What were you doing for the last year?"

"I was abroad."

"You were a _broad_?" Hm... I _thought _he looked a little girly.

"Yes, in Milan… attending school?" His statements were becoming questions, and I frowned at the breakdown in communication.

"Do you like pussy?" His twitching face became spastic."Oh, shit, I'm not supposed to ask that, am I? Look, I don't care if you like cock, I just need to you to - "

The dude's face went from spastic to excited in the space of a second. I turned to see what he was staring at: the biscotti shaped like dicks. I wanted to fill a thin center well with Boston cream, so it would ooze out the tip like pre-ejaculate, but I was having a fucking shitty time trying to figure out how to make it work.

"Do you work your dicks by hand?" he asked, his eyes popping a little.

"Well, yeah. You can't get the dicks to stiffen up if you don't. It's tres cum see cum sa, as the French say, unless you do the job a la main."

He looked at me like I was fucked in the head. He continued to ogle the dicks. I decided to give him an out by telling him my idea for filling the biscotti.

"How would you pull it off?"

Edward pulled at his lip, wrinkling his forehead. "Huh. Well, that presents an interesting problem. I approve of the Boston cream for the filling - it really approximates the body of semen, you know? Good color, too." He paced in front of the biscotti, mumbling to himself something that sounded like "Jizz injection."

Finally, he turned to me with a creepy ass smile. "I have an idea. You're clearly shaping the biscotti individually or in molds, right?" I nodded. "Do you have any tiny straws? We can insert them through the tip while the the biscotti is cooling, and - "

"Oh, dude, you're a fucking genius! That's perfect. I just got some really thin tube tips for piping bags, so this will totally work. Nice job, man."

"Well, I like realism."

**A/N: Here are translations of Carlisle's crappy French**

**Voulez-vous cochon avec moi, ce soir - would you pig me tonight?**

**It's tres cum see cum sa - mispronunciation of Comme ci comme ca, or so-so.**


End file.
